


What's Dead Should Stay Dead

by WhispersInTheWing



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Big Brother Dean, Crossover, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Night Terrors, Protective Dean Winchester, Suicide Attempt, Underage Rape/Non-con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 19,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhispersInTheWing/pseuds/WhispersInTheWing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester finds himself lost and alone in the post apocalyptic world of TWD after getting separated from Sam as they attempted to escape Woodbury and the sadistic Governor. Dean meets Rick, Carl and Michonne who offer to take Dean back to the prison for a hot meal and to round up a search party to get Sam back. Once at the prison, Dean is reunited with someone who he thought was lost forever, and the two of them vow to bring the youngest Winchester back safely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Has Been Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a crossover that sprang into my head while my laptop was in the shop. It quickly grew to 20+ pages of pure Supernatural/Walking Dead goodness! It is set Season 4(?) of TWD; Dean is 18, Sam is 14.
> 
> **WARNING** Fic contains mentions of underage rape, graphic depictions/descriptions of torture and injury, suicide attempts as well as major character death. If any of this is a trigger for you, turn around. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200. I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable reading this fic.**

Dean Winchester climbed over a six car pile-up on a back road outside of Marietta, Georgia. At least, he thought he was somewhere outside Marietta. The late August sun beat down on him; sweat trickling under the collar of his shirt. He shrugged off his leather jacket and tied it around his waist.

_“Where the hell are you Sammy?”_ Dean thought as he scanned the horizon.

Dean and Sam had gotten separated during their escape from Woodbury and the sociopath known only as The Governor. Dean prayed that Sam had gotten away. The Governor had taken a strange liking to the younger Winchester from the moment the brothers stumbled upon the town, hungry and injured. And even now it made Dean’s skin crawl.

The inhuman growling that preceded the arrival of Walkers had Dean pausing, a hand gripping the machete on his hip. From his perch on the roof of an SUV, Dean saw the Walker as it emerged from the nearby trees. A sigh of relief left Dean’s lungs. It wasn’t Sammy.

Dean jumped down from the car. It may not have been Sam, but it was still a Walker he could kill. He drew his machete, taking a few practice swings. Dean could always count on decapitating a few Walkers to help him feel more like himself. Dean stalked up behind the Walker, who munched on what looked to be some poor sap’s foot. He raised his arm, smiling as he brought the machete down and split the Walker’s head like a melon.

A gaggle of voices reached Dean’s ears from the woods where the Walker had emerged. Dean yanked the blade from the now dead again Walker and crouched down behind a car. Had The Governor and those psychos from Woodbury found him? Had they come to take him back to that horrible, god-awful place? Or had they just come to kill him?

“I think it went this way, dad,” A young boy’s voice said.

Dean watched a trio of people, a man, woman and young boy break through the tree line. He let out another huge sigh of relief. These people weren’t from Woodbury; The Governor never allowed the children to step outside the walls. The trio stopped in front of the Walker’s body. The man crouched down and inspected the head wound.

“Sorry Carl, but it looks like someone beat you to it. Though I don’t see signs of anyone, and ain’t no way they could cover enough ground to be out of sight. Which means—?”

“Which means that whoever took out this Walker is still around, so we better stay on our toes.”

Dean watched the group warily. He’d be stupid not to; the woman had a katana for Christ’s sake! But there was something about the way they interacted with each other that gave Dean the feeling that they weren’t a threat. The way they walked with a sense of ease laced with smart caution, told Dean that they belonged to the category of people who had embraced the violent post-apocalyptic world and weren’t afraid to chop down a Walker. The woman held herself with quiet strength, though it led Dean to believe that her past was not a good one. Something had happened in the early stages of the Walker epidemic that changed her. Knowing that it may be his only chance at finding Sammy, Dean stepped out from his hiding spot.

The boy, who Dean assumed was Carl, was the first to spot him. Carl raised his gun as he took a few cautious steps forward. Dean sheathed his machete and put his hands up in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner.

“I mean you no harm,” Dean called out. “I’m, I’m just trying to find my little brother.”

The man stepped in front of Carl, putting himself between the two boys. “What’s your name, son?” He asked with a subtle southern drawl.

“My name’s Dean, sir,” Dean replied.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dean. My name’s Rick, this is my son Carl, and this is Michonne.” Rick gestured to the woman with the katana. “How old are you Dean?”

“I’m 18, sir. Y-you’re not from Woodbury, are you?” Dean wondered, preparing to flee if the answer was yes.

“Oh God, no!” Michonne scoffed. “Are you?” She turned an icy glare at Dean, hand flexing at her side.

“No!” Dean exclaimed. “I mean, technically that’s where I’m coming from, but it’s not what you think. My brother and I were lost for a long time when we stumbled on Woodbury. I wouldn’t have had us stay, the place gave me the creeps, but Sammy had sprained his ankle and needed to get off his feet,” Dean explained.

“Where is your brother now?” Rick asked.

“The Governor he … he hurt my brother.” Dean stared down at the ground, tears burning in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. At that moment, Dean felt nothing like the tough, ruthless Walker-killer façade he put on. He felt scared and lost.

Michonne moved to step closer to Dean. “Is Sam still in Woodbury?” She asked softly. The question of _is he still alive?_ lingered unanswered in the air between them.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I punched the Governor in the face. Stabbed him in the eye with a knife I stashed in my boot. Then Sammy and I snuck out the back door. They started chasing us through the streets, and I realized too late that they corralled us to different sides of town, and Sammy was nowhere to be seen. I managed to hop the wall … but now I don’t know if Sammy was as lucky,” Dean finished.

“It’s getting late,” Rick stated. “Why don’t you come back with us, get some food in your belly and a good night’s sleep. We’ll help search for your brother in the morning.”

“I think that’s a good idea. We’ve got plenty of room for you, and enough people for a solid search team. I promise you that we will find Sam.” Michonne stated.

Dean followed the trio back through the woods, staying a few steps behind them in case he was being led into an ambush. They didn’t talk as they made their way back to wherever it was the trio was staying.

“We should be there in a few minutes. We’d just started out when we ran into each other,” Michonne remarked.

“Okay,” Dean muttered. As much as he wanted to keep searching for Sammy, he knew more people meant more ground covered. More people meant finding Sammy sooner.


	2. Orange Is The New Plaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets the prison group and is reunited with the one who he thought he would never see again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos! Nothing much to say here. Title is a play on the Netflix series (obviously ) :P Enjoy!

Dean looked up from the ground as they broke through the tree line. A large imposing prison rose into the sky before them. Rick waved his arms above his head, signaling to a sniper in the guard tower that they were friendlies. Dean almost made a run for it; the guard reminded him too much of how it was in Woodbury, but the way the people within moved with ease told him it was nothing like Woodbury. There were only two guards, one in each tower at the main gate. There were no armed men standing atop a wall of metal and barbed wife. This prison looked more welcoming than the small town of Woodbury ever did.

“How long have you all lived here?” Dean asked as they walked through the front gate, an older woman closing it behind them.

“We came upon this place around four months ago. It took us a couple days to clear out the Walkers and scope the place out. F Block was the only section we had to block off. The roof collapsed during the initial riots in the beginning of the outbreak. But don’t worry, there’s no way for the Walkers to get in,” Rick explained.

“Hey Rick,” The older woman said with a smile. “We didn’t expect to see you back here so soon. Who’s this?” She smiled at Dean.

“Carol, this is Dean; Dean, this is Carol. We found Dean a few miles south of here. Dean’s looking for his brother Sam, and tomorrow morning we’re getting a search group together. They were escaping from Woodbury when the two got separated.” Rick patted Dean on the shoulder.

“You look like you could use a shower and a hot meal. Lucky for you, we’ve got both here. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you around.” Carol put a hand at Dean’s elbow and led him into the main prison building.

“How many people live here in the prison?” Dean asked.

“Right now there’s about twenty of us. We got families, kids, doctors, ex-cops, just about anyone you can think of. What makes us different from Woodbury is that we don’t have a solitary leader. We have a group of us, a council that meet and make decisions about the good of the prison. Rick, Hershel, Daryl, and I make up the council.” Carol led Dean inside one of the cell blocks. A few people poked their heads out from open cells as Dean and Carol passed by.

“A Block and C Block are where we sleep, with B Block being used as an infirmary. The original infirmary was in F Block. We’ve got a garden out in the rec yard, and there’s a stream up the hill that provides us with running water.” Carol showed Dean everything the prison had to offer. That was another thing that made the place different than Woodbury; The Governor had a lot of places that were off-limits to everyone but him.

Carol showed Dean to the showers. “There are towels over in those lockers along with some soap. Come find me when you’re done and I’ll get you dinner and a bed for the night.” She turned on her heel and left, shutting the doors behind her.

Dean stepped to the nearest shower stall and stripped out of his clothes. His jeans and boxers were salvageable, but his shirt was little more than bloody rags. He hoped one of the guys would have an extra shirt that fit.

He turned on the water, moaning as the water cascaded over sore tired muscles. Tears mixed with the water that slid down his face. Dean hoped that wherever Sammy was … he was safe. Was he scared? Did Sammy think Dean had abandoned him? Or was he somewhere like the prison? Was he being fed and given a bed and a roof over his head? Was … was Sammy even still alive?

Dean finished his shower quickly, not wanting to dwell in his negative thoughts. He grabbed a towel from the lockers on the other side of the room, humming under his breath. It was a Beatles song he used to sing to Sammy when he was little, before the whole world went to shit. He dried his body as he began to sing, the words bringing fresh tears to his eyes. Dean set the towel on a bench to dry, and shimmied into his clothes. He tossed his ruined shirt in the trash on his way out.

A small body crashed into his legs as he rounded the corner back into A Block. They fell to the ground with twin ‘umphs’. A blonde haired little girl untangled herself from Dean’s legs and sat back. Dean looked over at her and saw her clutching a scraped knee, fat tears sliding down her cherub cheeks.

Dean scrambled to his knees, big-brother mode in full effect. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay, it’s not that bad,” Dean said softly. The little girl scrubbed her face with her fists and sniffled. “My name’s Dean. What’s yours?”

“M-Mary,” She replied. “I’m five.”

Dean smiled. “It’s nice to meet you Mary. Why don’t we go find Carol and get you a Band-Aid?” He stood and picked Mary up in his arms. She wrapped her arms and legs around Dean and buried her face in the side of his neck.

Dean started singing again, his rich tenor voice soothing the rest of Mary’s tears. He felt her smile against his skin, and he couldn’t keep the smile off his own face. He walked back into the common area of A Block, searching the sea of unfamiliar faces for Carol. He spotted her at a nearby table, talking to Rick and an older guy with a Santa beard.

The old guy looked up as Dean approached. “Oh no, what happened Mary?” He wondered.

“We were both going ‘round the corner at the same time and had a little collision. She scraped her knee.” Dean turned to the side, showing Mary’s bloody knee to the group.

Carol opened her arms and Dean deposited Mary into them. “Thanks Dean. I’ll take her to the infirmary and patch her up. Rick, Hershel and I called a camp meeting so we could introduce you. I should be back before everyone gets here.”

“Have a seat Dean,” Hershel remarked. “Tell me about yourself.”

Dean sat down at the table, resting his chin in his hand. “There’s not much to tell, sir. When the world first started going to hell, it was just me and my little brother Sam at home. Our dad was gone on a hunting trip; we haven’t seen or heard from him since. Sam and I lived in Woodbury for a while, until I walked in on The Governor raping Sam. I tried to get him out of town, but they separated us. I … I don’t know if Sammy made it out,” Dean’s voice trailed off with a sniffle.

Hershel placed a hand on Dean’s knee. “Don’t worry son, we’ll help you find your brother.” Dean couldn’t help but feel comforted by Hershel’s words.

The rest of the camp started filing into the cell block, each person eyeing Dean as they passed. Carol returned from the infirmary, a now giggling, grinning Mary on her hip. Mary’s grin grew even bigger as she spotted Dean. She wiggled from Carol’s grasp and ran to Dean, throwing little arms around his waist.

“She wanted to thank you for singing to her after she fell.” Carol chuckled. She scanned the crowd to see who they were still waiting on. “Have any of you seen John?” She asked.

A blonde haired girl that looked to be right around Sam’s age skipped over to the table. “John’s cleaning up the mess from my training session. He said he’d be here in a few minutes. I’m Beth, by the way,” She said, sticking a hand out.

Dean shook it. “Nice to meet you Beth, I’m Dean.”

A few minutes passed in relative silence. Dean could hear snippets of the conversations around him, but didn’t feel like engaging. He wondered if John would be as welcoming as everyone else had been so far. Dean kept his gaze on the scratched metal in front of him. If nothing else, he hoped John would help find Sammy.

It was only when the sound of boot steps reached his ears did Dean took his gaze up from the tabletop. He gasped loudly as the man came into view. He wore a smile on his face as he wiped his hands on an oil-stained rag. Dean stood, catching the man’s attention. His eyes widened and the smile fell from his face as he too gasped.

“Dad?” Dean wondered, his voice a breathy whisper.


	3. Reunited And It Feels So Good

“Dean? Is that really you?” John surged forward, long legs eating up the distance between them. He threw his arms around Dean, squeezing him to his chest.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Dean murmured. The two men couldn’t stop the flood of tears that ran down their faces. They clutched one another tightly, afraid to let go after being apart for over a year.

“Where’s Sam?”

Dean froze, the question he’d been dreading ringing in his ears. He stepped away from John, shame coloring his cheeks. “Sammy … Sammy’s not here. I’m sorry dad, we got separated. We were staying in a town called Woodbury while Sam recovered after spraining his ankle. I should’ve watched out for Sammy better, I should’ve protected him better. I’m sorry Dad. I’ll head back out now and look for him. I’ll bring him back dad, I promise,” Dean rambled, the words bursting forth before John could chastise Dean in front of these strangers. Maybe John would wait until they were alone before ripping him a new one.

“Dean,” John began. “Calm down buddy. You did everything you could. You did the right thing by finding a place to stay when Sam was hurt. There was no way for you to know Woodbury was insane. I was with the group when we had to rescue Michonne from The Governor; I know how twisted that man is. You will stay here tonight and get some sleep. God knows how long you’ve been up. Then, in the morning we will all go look for your brother. This wasn’t your fault, Dean.” He gathered Dean in his arms again, hugging his son. “We’ll bring Sammy home, son. I promise.”

Dean nodded, drying his cheeks on the sleeve of his father’s shirt. The two turned as soft sniffling filtered into their bubble. The women in the room were all crying, as well as a number of the men. The group all knew that John had had two sons who had gotten lost after the dead started walking the Earth again, but they never thought they would be witness to the reunion. It was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, and that even though the world was crumbling around them, there was still a chance to rebuild.

“Well, it seems like we could all use a good night’s sleep. We’ll meet here in the morning to divide into search teams,” Rick stated as he stood.

With the meeting adjourned, the group dispersed, breaking off to their own parts of the prison. Dean and John watched everyone leave, until they were the last ones in A Block’s common area. John placed his arm around Dean’s shoulders and hugged him to his side.

“I meant what I said Dean.” John sat down at one of the tables as he spoke. “You are not to blame for what happened in Woodbury. The only person at fault here is The Governor. And I promise son, he will pay for what he did to Sammy. Nobody hurts my boys and gets away with it. I don’t care if I have to kill every last Walker on this god-forsaken planet, I will end that son of a bitch.”

Dean nodded; his face was a mask of grim determination. “I-I still can’t believe you’re alive dad. I can’t believe we found each other again. Sammy will be over the moon when the two of us find him. ‘Cause I know we’ll be the ones to find him. We always do.”

“I know we will Dean,” John muttered. He scrubbed a hand across his chin. “We should take Rick’s advice and get some rest. There’s an extra bed in my room, you can bunk with me.”

Dean followed his father to C Block and up to a cell on the second landing. It was much like the motel rooms Dean had grown up in. The three walls were covered in an array of newspaper clippings; most of which were recent, right near the time before the dead rose and up until the last of the major cities had been overrun. But Dean wasn’t really looking at those. No, what Dean was looking at was something he’d never seen before. The wall above on of the beds was covered with pictures of the Winchesters. There were photos of John and Mary in their younger years, when she was pregnant with Dean and then with Sam. There were photos that chronicled Dean and Sam growing up; from first days of school to Sammy’s soccer games and Dean’s first and only Prom. There were two family photos closest to the pillow. One was of the four of them that was taken a few weeks after Sammy was born, and another taken around the time Dean was 11.

“I never knew you had all these pictures, dad,” Dean said as he ran a light feathery touch over a picture of his mom.

“I, uh, I kept them in a lockbox in my storage unit. I didn’t have them with me because I didn’t want to possibly lose them. But now, now they’re all I have left of our old life. Every morning I wake up and look up at you and your brother and know that one day we will be a family again.” Dean’s words had hit a raw nerve and it showed in John’s voice.

Dean wasn’t exactly sure what to say, so he settled for hugging his father again. “Goodnight dad,” Dean said as he pulled back and crawled into the empty bed. “I love you.”

“I love you too Dean. Sleep tight.”

Dean settled into the mattress and closed his eyes, drifting off to the steady rhythm of his dad’s breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's such a short chapter, but this was the best place to end it.


	4. What Has Been Told

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING** talks of suicide are mentioned in this chapter, so if this is a trigger for you, don't read.**

Dean’s dreams were haunted by Sammy’s screams and The Governor’s sadistic laughter. He awoke, panting and sweating; his heart beating a million miles a minute. The prison was quiet, everyone still sleeping. Dean figured he’d only been asleep for a couple hours at best and also figured he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon. With nothing to do but bide his time and twiddle his thumbs, Dean decided to scope out the prison and see if the guy in the guard tower wanted company.

Dean found himself standing in the middle of the prison yard, staring out at the Walkers gathered at the fence. He strained his eyes as he looked from decayed face to decayed face. Sammy couldn’t be one of those Walkers; he had to still be alive. He had to be!

“Couldn’t sleep?” A young woman pondered as she approached.

“Not really, I had a nightmare.” Dean shrugged. It was hard to see the woman in the moonlight, but she looked about 27 years old, with short brown hair. She had a blanket around her shoulders.

“A lot of us have nightmares still; some are just better at hiding it than others. I unfortunately am not one of them. My name’s Maggie, by the way. You’re Dean, right? John talked about you and your brother all the time. He really missed you Dean. For a while, when he first joined up with our group, we didn’t think he’d make it,” Maggie said, staring out towards the forest on the other side of the fence.

“What do you mean?” Dean wondered.

“John was in bad shape emotionally. Depression hit him pretty hard the first few nights he slept here. Carol and I took turns watching over him to help with his nightmares. They were the worst I’d ever seen. It was like living with a grenade; we were just waiting for the pin to be pulled.” Maggie and Dean sat down in the grass when she paused. Dean had a feeling that the ending to her story wouldn’t be good.

“It happened about a week after he got here. John had had a particularly bad nightmare the night before and was very distant. He wouldn’t talk to anyone. He didn’t show up for morning meeting, or show for weapons training. I was starting to get worried, so I went looking for him. No one had opened the gates, so I knew he was still somewhere in the prison. I found him in the showers; he had a blade pressed to his wrist. It was apparent that John wasn’t really there in the moment. He was trapped somewhere in the past. He kept repeating your names over and over again. He kept apologizing to someone named Mary.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Mary was my mother. She died in a fire in my little brother’s nursery when I was four. Dad took her death hard; he doesn’t talk about her very much anymore. He never really got the chance to grieve, you know? Had two young boys to take care of,” Dean explained Mary to Maggie, noting the tear tracks drying on her cheeks.

“That explains a lot. Thank you for tell me about her Dean. John didn’t even acknowledge that I was in the room with him. I shut off the water; it was ice cold and John was shivering so badly, he was nicking his wrist with every tremor. I grabbed the blade before he sliced his wrist open. Something about the physical contact shocked him, and he attacked me; got a good shot in on my jaw. But I couldn’t blame him for what he did. Not in the state he was in,” Maggie shook her head, not able to finish. She couldn’t tell Dean how they had to watch John 24/7 just to make sure he stayed alive. It wasn’t something she wanted to put on the boy’s shoulders.

“Maggie?” Dean’s voice trembled. “Do you really think we’ll find Sammy? What … what am I gonna do if we can’t? Is he even still alive? Who’s to say The Governor hasn’t killed him by now? Who’s to say The Governor didn’t cut Sammy’s throat the moment he got his hands on him again? How could I leave him like that Maggie?! He must be so fucking scared! Does he call for me at night? Or does he curse my name? Am I even a brother to him anymore? I hope mom is watching over him, wherever he is right now. I need some kind of answer!” Dean screamed to the night sky. Even the Walkers fell silent for a moment as they listened to Dean’s cries.

“From what John has told me about you and Sam, he knows his big brother will go through Hell to find him. Sam isn’t cursing your name, Dean. You must realize that deep down,” Maggie said softly. She pulled Dean in until his head rested on her shoulder and wrapped the blanket around them both. “Get some sleep Dean. I’ll be right here if you have a nightmare.”

Dean shifted closer to Maggie, breathing in the scent of her clothes. “Thanks Maggie. Are you going to help look for Sammy in the morning?”

“Of course I am Dean. If it was Beth out there missing, I’d hope someone would be right there with me helping find her. Sleep now Dean, we’ll find Sam in the morning.” Maggie rocked Dean slowly, humming under her breath until she heard his breathing even out and deepen. She pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s hair and fell asleep beside him.


	5. A Nightmare Dressed Like A Daydream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while since an update, but work is hectic.

Dean woke the next morning, feeling more refreshed than he ever had. He untangled himself from Maggie and stood, stretching his tight muscles.

“How’d you sleep?” Maggie pondered as she got to her feet, carding her fingers through her sleep tousled hair.

“Pretty well, all things considered. There’s something about the outdoors that never fails to help me sleep. Thanks for staying out here with me last night, it helped to have another person to curl up with.” Dean blushed.

“It’s no problem at all Dean. Sometimes it gets pretty claustrophobic in the prison, and it’s nice to sleep outside once in a while. Why don’t we go inside and get some breakfast. I think Oatmeal’s on the menu this morning.” Maggie smiled sideways at Dean as they took their time walking back into the prison.

Dean dreaded going back inside. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he really didn’t want to go back inside. Maybe it was that he was afraid that yesterday had all been a dream, and that his father was furious at Dean for not looking after Sammy better. Maybe it was that he didn’t want to see how the others looked at him now that they knew he was John’s son.

“You need to stop thinking so hard, Dean.” Maggie laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully. “I know you’re nervous, but you shouldn’t be. Everyone loved meeting you yesterday, and they will still love you today. And your dad cares about you a lot Dean. I’ve never seen him as happy as he was yesterday. Just remember that okay?”

“I know and I think deep down I figured as much, but this whole post-apocalyptic world has changed how I view relationships. You know what I mean?” Dean stated, scanning   
the horizon.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Before this whole living undead thing, I didn’t date. My father wouldn’t allow it. Said I wasn’t ready and every boy I showed even the slightest interest in, he said no. But then I met Glenn and everything changed. My father still detested me dating, and then I realized that I couldn’t let him control my life anymore. Glenn and I are happier than ever.

“The world is different now; you can’t hold grudges with family anymore. You never know if today will be your last day with someone. Whatever happened between you and your father before the Walkers needs to be put to rest, and I think John has already done that. If not, then I will sit the two of you down and help you work through your past so that you can be close with your dad before it’s too late.” Maggie’s words rang with truth; so much truth that it jarred Dean to his bones.

“You’re right Maggie I guess I just had trouble seeing it at first. My dad and I never had the best relationship, but I can’t imagine losing him or what my life would be like without him. Thanks for talking with me about it. You’re a really good person.” Dean smiled up at Maggie as they walked into the prison for breakfast.

“Good morning Dean!” Beth greeted with a smile as she passed by.

“Good morning Beth. Is my dad up yet?” Dean asked as they stopped.

“Not yet. You should probably go make sure he’s awake though; Rick says after breakfast we’re heading out to look for Sam,” Beth said before continuing on.

Maggie hugged Dean around the shoulders. “You go wake your dad up and I’ll get us all some breakfast. Does that sound good?”

Dean nodded. “That sounds great. Thanks Maggie.” Dean turned and headed towards C block as the sounds of life filled the air. He could almost imagine that the world outside the prison walls hadn’t turned into a desolate wasteland and that Sammy was safe in his bed. Almost.

“Dad it’s time for breakfast! Rise and shine sleeping beauty!” Dean chuckled as he approached his father’s “room”. Dean stopped in his tracks as he pushed the make-shift curtains aside. John was sitting on the edge of the bed, tears streaming silently down his face as he clutched a worn picture of Sam. John’s shoulders shook with sobs that got caught in his throat. Dean had never seen his father so broken before.

“Dad?” Dean whispered as he walked towards John. “Dad, are you okay?” Dean dropped to his knees in front of his dad. “Say something please.”

John looked up suddenly, pulled from his inner grief by the sound of his eldest son’s concerned voice. “Dean? Wh-what’s going on?”

“I don’t know dad. I think you got caught in some memories again. That’s okay, we’ve all done it at least once. I just came to get you for breakfast.” Dean patted John’s knee and hoped his smile was convincing.

“That sounds good son, I’d like some breakfast.” John set the picture down on his pillow and stood from the bed. “I love you Dean … never forget that.”


	6. Darkest Before The Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the super late update! Work and school and writing is a tough juggling act, but I think I'm managing quite nicely. And for a while I wasn't getting inspired with this story and was at a spot where I felt kinda stuck. But I kept on keeping on and managed a nice little chapter. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Sam finally makes an appearance in this chapter

Dean nodded at his father’s words. “I love you too dad. I’m glad we’re okay,” Dean replied as the two of them made their way back to A block and the rest of the group.

Maggie handed both Winchesters bowls of oatmeal and Dean took his gratefully. It had been more than a few days since Dean had last eaten, but he didn’t want John to know that. “So what’s the plan? Are we gonna search for Sam in Woodbury first? In case they caught him before he could escape town?” Dean asked as they found an empty seat and began to eat.

John nodded. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. We know of a few spots along Woodbury’s fence line that they don’t guard and that has pretty easy access inside. Rick, Michonne, Daryl and I will approach the main gate, so that you, Maggie and Glenn can sneak in through the fence and look in the Governor’s house for Sam.”

“Are you sure the diversion’s going to work? What if the Governor suspects it’s a ploy?” Dean asked.

“The Governor is pretty dead set on getting Michonne back, so I don’t think it’ll be much of a risk,” John replied.

“And he really hates Rick,” Beth chuckled through a mouthful of oatmeal. Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the reminder of how Sam ate. He knew that she and Sam would get along swimmingly. “I don’t know if it’s because he has a problem with authority, or just doesn’t like the way Rick runs things. The guy is nuttier than squirrel shit.”

“Beth! Watch your language!” Maggie scolded. Dean and Beth laughed loudly, lightening the atmosphere in the room.

“Sorry Maggie, but you know it’s true!” Beth replied with a smile. The group finished their breakfast in relative silence, each to their own thoughts.

\--------------

Dean held his breath as a perimeter patrol walked by his hiding place. Rick and the others would be approaching the front gates of Woodbury any minute, and that would call all of the armed men to the front. That was when Dean had to make his move. Maggie and Glenn watched the men until they were out of sight before speaking.

“Rick, Michonne, Daryl and John should be at the gate any second now. You ready to do this Dean?” Maggie asked. Dean nodded once, clutching the rifle in his hands tightly.

There was a distant shout, and the three of them knew it was now or never. Glenn was the first to sprint from cover, followed by Dean with Maggie taking up the rear. They snuck in to Woodbury through a hole in the fence, letting out a long breath once they were inside.

“It’s up to you now Dean. You’re the only one who knows where The Governor would be keeping Sam. Lead the way.” Maggie motioned for Dean to take the lead.

Dean closed his eyes briefly to get his bearings before they set out on their rescue mission. He scanned the surrounding buildings until his eyes landed on one that frequently haunted his dreams. “That one there. That’s where he keeps Sammy.” Dean took off in a run towards the building in question, throwing his rifle over his shoulder.

Dean slowed as they approached the building; an old Victorian two story house. He put his hand up, telling Maggie and Glenn to stop. “I need you two to keep watch out here while I go inside. Sammy’s gonna be scared, and any unfamiliar faces will only scare him more. I’ll be quick; if I’m not back in five minutes then you run.” Dean didn’t wait for either of them to reply. He walked to the front door and tried the knob, which turned with a silent click. Dean raised his pistol as he made his way slowly into the house. There was no telling what was in the house.

“Sam? Sammy, where are you?” Dean wondered, sweeping the first floor of the house.

“Dean?! Dean is that you? I’m in the basement!” Sam called out from behind a door in the kitchen. “Dean!”

Dean tried the door only to find it locked. “Hang on Sammy, I’m coming!” Dean took a step back, lifted his foot and kicked in the door. Sunlight illuminated the worn staircase leading down into dim blackness. He could hear what sounded like growling coming from somewhere in the basement, and what sounded a lot like crying.

Dean raced down the stairs, gun at the ready. He let his gaze sweeps the room until his eyes landed on Sam huddled in the far corner. “Sammy,” Dean breathed in relief and he dropped to his knees in front of Sam. His relief was short-lived as his gaze fell upon the rusty bear-trap locked around his little brother’s left leg. It was also at that time that Dean noticed Sam wasn’t looking at him, but at something on the other side of the room.

Dean turned slowly towards the sound of growling. ‘Holy shit,’ Dean thought with a gasp. A little Walker girl that couldn’t have been more than 7 years old lunged at them; stopped only by a chain around her ankle. Her blonde hair hung in greasy tangles with bald patches where the hair had either fallen out or had been ripped out. Blood crusted on her chin and stained her once white dress. She growled, showing a mouth missing quite a few teeth.

“She’s the Governor’s daughter. He keeps her chained up down here because he can’t bear to kill her. He-he brings arms and legs for her every day. Sometimes he brings down people who are still alive, Dean! They’re still alive and I can … I can still hear their screams when I close my eyes.” Sam rocked back and forth slowly, blood streaming down his leg as the steel teeth of the trap dug into him.

“It’s okay now Sammy. I’m going to get you out of here. I promise,” Dean remarked. He rose to his feet and drew his knife. He strode towards the Walker and drove the knife through her forehead. “I give you mercy.” Dean wiped the blade on his pant leg and tucked it back into its sheath.

Dean’s skin prickled as a sense of unease surrounded him. He spun around, eyes falling on his brother’s pale limp form. “Sammy! No, no, no! Come on Sammy, you gotta be okay. Stay with me Sammy please.” Dean shook Sam’s shoulder, tears springing to his eyes. “MAGGIE! MAGGIE HELP!”


	7. Folsom Prison Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Maggie and Glenn make it back to the prison with Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long random hiatus. I suffer from severe migraines that seem to get worse as the weather gets warmer, so I haven't been able to work on any of my stories lately. But they seem to be under control now, and aside from working two days a week and Graduation in less than a week, I'll be able to post more! I hope you enjoy this chapter that took forever to come together.

Maggie jumped at the sound of her name being screamed from inside the house. “Something’s wrong,” She said frantically to Glenn before rushing inside. She followed the sound of Dean’s screams to the basement.

“Sammy, wake up please! Please wake up! Sammy, you can’t leave me,” Dean whimpered as he held Sam in his arms. “Sammy!”

Dean looked up at the feel of a hand on his shoulder. “Maggie, what’s wrong with him? Why won’t he wake up?!”

Maggie took in their surroundings, from the dead walker in the corner to the bear trap locked around the young Winchester’s leg. She holstered her gun and dropped to her knees. “Dean, your brother’s lost a lot of blood and most likely has gone into shock. We need to get him out of here now. Hershel will be able to fix him up, but we need to move or it’ll be too late.” Maggie grabbed her gun and shot the chain connecting the trap to the floor. “Go upstairs and see if you can find something to cover Sam with. Like a shirt or a blanket, okay?”

“Okay Maggie.” Dean nodded and raced upstairs.

He grabbed a blanket from the couch in the living room and returned to the basement. Dean wrapped Sam up in the old blanket, mindful not to jar the trap and cause more injury. Sam groaned softly as the warmth began to seep under his skin and chase the shivers away.

“You’re gonna be okay Sammy. I won’t leave you again. I promise,” Dean murmured softly, brushing the hair from Sam’s face.

Maggie gathered the limp body in her arms and stood. Sam barely weighed anything; it was like carrying a sack of groceries. “Let’s go Dean. Run ahead and tell Glenn what’s going on, okay?” She nudged Dean’s side with her hip, spurring him into action.

Maggie waited until Dean had disappeared from sight before letting out a long, shaky breath. It would be a miracle if Sam made it through the night, but she wasn’t about to say that in front of Dean. “If you can hear me Sam, you have to pull through … for your brother. He needs you kiddo. You can’t leave him now,” Maggie whispered as she climbed the stairs to the main floor of the house.

Glenn was waiting for her when she reached the first floor landing. “Jesus,” Glenn gasped. Maggie transferred Sam into Glenn’s arms with a grim expression. “Let’s get him out of here,” Glenn said as he turned and raced out of the house. They could still hear the sounds of a fight in the distance; Rick and the others were exceeding at keeping the people of Woodbury occupied.

“Once we get back to the prison, I’ll radio Rick and tell him we got Sam safe. Then we’ll most likely have to prepare for another battle there. But we won’t let The Governor get his hands on Sam ever again. He’ll be safe with us,” Maggie remarked as they approached the fence. Dean wiggled through the hole in the fence first, followed by Glenn carrying Sam, and finally Maggie bringing up the rear and watching for any signs they were being followed. It looked as though they would make it back to safety without incident.

Dean ran nimbly through the trees, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure that they really had Sam and that it hadn’t all been a dream. Sam was beginning to look feverish and, had he always been so pale? Dean didn’t see the walker until his foot crushed its skull like an overripe melon, but Dean never slowed his pace. Time was of the essence, and every minute that passed was crucial.

“I see the prison up ahead! Hang on Sammy, we’re almost there!” Dean remarked with a laugh of relief. He ran up ahead of Glenn and Maggie, waving his arms frantically in the air towards the gate. “Carol! Open the gate! We need help!” Dean shouted. He stopped and waited for the others to catch up as he tried to catch his breath through the panic that had crept up on him.

The gate rattled as Carol pulled it open quickly, ushering the trio inside. She closed the gate behind her and followed behind as they raced into the prison. “What happened to him?” Carol asked as they rushed to the infirmary.

“The Governor was keeping him locked in the basement, with a bear trap on his leg to prevent escape. He’s lost a lot of blood,” Maggie rattled off as Glenn laid Sam down gently on the nearest bed and then raced off to find Hershel.

Dean dropped to his knees beside the bed, brushing the hair from Sam’s eyes. He whispered softly to his brother even as his voice shook. “You’re gonna be okay Sammy. You’re safe now. I’m right here and I won’t ever leave you. And guess what, Sammy? Dad’s here too. He’s alive and he misses you so much. I know, I can’t believe it either. I never thought we’d see dad again after we got separated. So you need to be okay so dad can give you a big hug.” Sam groaned but otherwise didn’t move.


	8. Live Like You Were Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the unexpected hiatus! Real life threw me a curveball and I was dealing with some medical issues for a while. But now I'm better and since season 6 of TWD and season 11 of Supernatural are in full force I'm expecting to have lots of inspiration ... which means more chapters for you lovelies to read! Enjoy!

Dean looked up at the sound of footsteps. Hershel hurried into the room and over to the bed, his gaze quickly taking in and assessing the young boy. 

“Maggie, I need my kit. It’s with the rest of the medical supplies. And bring two IVs.” Hershel turned to Dean. “Son, do you know what your brother’s blood type is? He’s going to need a lot, and we have to know if anyone here is compatible.”

Dean nodded, squeezing Sam’s hand in his. “He’s AB+.”

Hershel smiled briefly. “That’s good, that’s very good. We won’t have to worry about finding an exact match, AB+ people can receive blood from anyone,” Hershel remarked.

Maggie ran back, dropping the supplies at Hershel’s side. She moved to Dean, motioning for him to roll up his sleeves. “I know you’re going to want to be the first person to give Sam blood, and I don’t blame you. I’m going to get you prepped while Hershel and Carol get that damn trap off Sam’s leg. We don’t want to start the transfusion right now, because until we get the trap off and start stitching up the wounds, he’s just going to bleed out what we give him.”

Dean nodded as Maggie cleaned the crook of his elbow with alcohol. Maggie’s hands shook as she slipped a tourniquet onto his upper arm and inserted a needle into the raised vein. “You tell us when you start to feel dizzy and we’ll switch you out. You won’t do your brother any good if you pass out.”

“Okay Maggie,” Dean replied, his eyes never leaving Sam’s still form on the bed. “Is he gonna make it?” Tears spilled down Dean’s cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the truth, or a lie to make him feel better.

“I won’t sugarcoat it, Dean. It’s going to be rough but if anyone can pull through, it’s Sam. Just keep talking to him like you’ve been doing. It’ll help him stay calm while we work. We can’t have him jerking around while we get the trap off,” Maggie remarked, a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Because this is going to hurt quite a bit for him. We’re low on pain killers right now.”

Dean nodded, watching Sam’s even breathing. It was the only thing keeping Dean from losing what little sanity he had left. He wasn’t much for praying, but he only hoped that God was looking down on them and would help his brother. “Please God,” Dean whispered. “Don’t take Sammy away from me.”

Beth got down on her knees next to the bed on the opposite side of Dean. She put an arm across Sam’s waist and leaned her weight onto it. She looked up at Dean’s confused expression. “We have to hold him down while dad and Maggie get the trap off. He’s going to jerk around a lot. Don’t worry Dean, he’s in good hands.”

Dean nodded. “I’ll hold his torso, you keep his other leg from kicking out.” Beth nodded, switching places with him and holding down Sam’s uninjured leg. Dean knew that if Sam happened to find his way back to consciousness while they were tending to him, it would calm him to see a familiar face. And Dean could talk softly to Sam while he was under as a way to anchor his mind.

“Are you ready Dean?” Maggie asked from her place beside her father. Dean nodded, not fully trusting his voice to stay steady.

Maggie grabbed the sides of the trap, taking a deep breath before she started to pull it open. Blood gushed from Sam’s leg, quickly soaking the mattress beneath him as he thrashed in Dean and Beth’s grips. Dean paled at the sight of so much blood coming out of his brother. Hershel lifted Sam’s mangled leg from the trap and Maggie tossed it to the side.

Dean choked back tears; no one could survive an injury like that in this world. They could try long and hard to save Sam, but Dean knew his little brother was all but gone. No one lost that much blood and lived. “It’s okay Sammy, I’m here. I’m right here and I won’t leave you. You’re not alone Sammy,” Dean whispered softly, stroking fingers through Sam’s hair.

“The trap did more damage than I first thought,” Hershel explained as he wrapped a tourniquet around Sam’s thigh. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve dealt with bear trap injuries before, though not one quite this severe. You’re doing good son.”

Dean nodded, not taking his eyes off Sam’s face. Tears leaked out from behind his lids, falling down his temples and into his hair. Bile rose in Dean’s throat at the evidence of the sheer amount of pain Sam was in. “Don’t cry Sammy. You’re safe here. I won’t leave you ever again.”

Hershel set to work, using a scalpel to turn the jagged puncture wounds into clean lacerations. It was long and tedious, but necessary if he was going to try to save Sam’s leg. The metal teeth of the trap had shredded the muscles and cracked the bone, and every movement had only aggravated the injuries.

Maggie followed her father, suturing up the open wounds after checking the underlying arteries and veins to make sure any holes or tears got closed. “Things are going well Dean. There’s been good blood flowing to his foot, so there’s no necrosis or dead tissue which means we won’t have to remove it,” Maggie explained when she paused to wipe sweat from her brow. “There has been some damage to the muscle, but hopefully that will heal with time. Sammy will probably walk with a limp for the rest of his life.”

Dean nodded, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. They weren’t out of the woods yet. That wouldn’t happen until Sam woke up, but for now, Dean allowed himself to hope.


	9. The Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I never thought this would get the positive reception that it has! Thank you to everyone who has been reading, kudosing and commenting! It keeps me going during times of writer's block when I think I'll never get past it. :)
> 
> Here's the next chapter, though I know it's short. It's only short because it was a good place to stop. I promise the next chapter will be a lot longer!
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> -Stacey

Glenn poked his head into the room. “Rick and the others are almost back. They should be coming up to the gate any minute now. Dean, do you want me to send your dad in when he gets here?”

“Y-yeah, thanks Glenn. Dad should be here if Sam wakes up,” Dean replied, turning back to look at Sam. He’d stopped trembling and though he hadn’t yet regained color, he didn’t look like he was on death’s doorstep.

“Dean? We’re ready to start giving Sam blood,” Maggie spoke, pulling Dean from his thoughts. He looked over to see Hershel wiping the blood from around the sutures with a wet cloth. Maggie was giving Dean a warm smile when he turned to look at her. Dean didn’t really believe in reincarnation, but at that moment he felt as though his mother was with him again in Maggie. She was everything Dean remembered his mom to be like and it calmed him knowing that Sam was in her capable hands.

~~**~~

John paused as he and the rest of the distraction party stumbled through the gate. They had made it back to the prison without injury, and now they needed to prepare for the war that would soon be at their walls. They couldn't allow the Governor to get his hands on Sam again. John didn't think his youngest would survive one more night with the man.

“John!” Glenn called as he jogged up to the group. “Sam's in the infirmary with Maggie and Hershel; Dean’s asking for you.”

John let out a huff of relief. They’d found Sam alive. What was left of their family was whole again. “Thanks Glenn,” John replied, clapping the smaller man on the shoulder as he passed. He made his way quickly into the prison, stopping briefly to drop his rifle on a table in the armory. On the way, he steeled himself for what he might see in the infirmary. There was no telling what The Governor could’ve done to Sam after he and Dean had been separated.

John stepped into the infirmary, unable to hold back a choked sob. His youngest son was lying motionless and pale on a blood soaked cot, his left leg mangled. A bloody bear trap lay on the ground a few feet away. Dean held Sam across the torso, whispering softly in his brother’s ear. “Sam,” John gasped. He couldn’t make his legs listen to him to cross the distance between him and his sons.

Dean turned towards the sound of his father’s voice. “Dad!” Dean exclaimed, letting out a sob of relief. It was enough to spur John into moving quickly to his sons’ side. He fell to his knees beside Dean, reaching out to brush fingers through Sam’s hair. Sam groaned, but otherwise didn’t move, tears streaming down his temples.

“Shh, it’s okay Sam. I’m here now. You’re safe.” John repeated the words softly, watching his youngest son’s face for a sign that he heard him.

“How did the distraction go? Did we lose anyone?” Dean asked, hope brimming in his heart as Sam slowly started regaining color. He was looking less like the Walkers they took out and more like the little brother Dean remembered.

“It went just like we planned it. Didn’t lose anyone and none of ours got hurt. The Governor’s people will be tending to their wounded, so we bought ourselves a couple of days. Plenty of time for us to get Sam stabilized and away from death’s door. You did good Dean.” John clapped Dean on the shoulder, letting his oldest know through touch what he couldn’t say in words. “I’m proud of you Dean.”

“Thanks dad. I’m just glad we got Sam away from the maniac before anything else happened. You wouldn’t believe the conditions Sam was living in. The Governor had him locked in the basement with a bear trap on his leg to keep him from trying to escape. There was this … this little girl down there with him but she was a Walker. Sam said it was the Governor’s daughter and that he couldn’t bear to kill her so he kept her locked up in the basement, and he’d bring food to her. I don’t know how long Sam was forced to be down there with that monster,” Dean said, a shudder crawling up his spine. He still saw the horrible scene every time he closed his eyes and knew he’d be plagued with nightmares for months to come.

“That part is over now. Sam never has to go back to that awful place ever again. I’ll die before I let the Governor get his hands on either of you boys again,” John stated.


	10. Space Oddity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, another update already?! Yup that's right! My muse had a triple venti redbull and is cranking out the inspiration like crazy! Hopefully this chapter is longer than my last one!
> 
> Keep the kudos and comments coming! :-)

“Get the wounded to the infirmary right away! Johnson and Reynolds, I want you on gate duty. Edwards, Coleman and Sanchez are on perimeter. Erickson and Harris sniper positions! Allman, Seeger and Crosby you’re our field team; I want you armed and headed to the prison in 10. Take a radio and relay what you see to Masters, then hold position. Let’s move people!” The Governor shouted to the people of Woodbury. “I want to know why the hell those assholes showed their sorry faces here!”

The group dispersed to their various tasks and positions; they knew not to cross the Governor when Rick Grimes was involved. The last person to do that had gotten a bullet between the eyes and dumped unceremoniously over the fence. The wounded hobbled towards the infirmary to get patched up; thankfully no one had been killed this time and the worst of their injuries was Ramirez, a gunshot wound to the shoulder.

The Governor made his way back to his house, picturing all the ways he was going to take out his anger at Grimes on the boy in his basement. In all honesty, he thought he’d get bored with this boy a long time ago like the others, but this one was different. Even after everything the Governor had done to him, he still had the audacity to struggle and fight and say that he was going to be rescued by his big brother ‘any day now, just you wait.’ But as the days turned to weeks the boy’s steadfast resolve about his brother began to waver, and that was when the Governor knew he had started to break the boy’s spirit. He figured it would only take another week or so of being locked down in the dark before the young boy fully broke. Then, the Governor decided, he would rid himself and his town of the boy.

The Governor stopped on the sidewalk in front of his house. The front door was ajar, and while it could’ve been left open by one of the many women that frequented his bed, something in his gut told him that wasn’t the case this time. The Governor grabbed the knife from his hip as he snuck up the porch steps, eyes scanning what he could see of the foyer. The house seemed quiet from where he stood; there were no sounds of shuffling or things moving inside.

‘I must’ve left the door open when Rick showed up at the gate.’ The Governor thought as he sheathed his knife and entered his house, closing the door behind him. What he really needed was to get a new deadbolt for that door in case someone jumped the fence and tried to rob him. Nothing in the living room was out of place, an open book still where he left it on the coffee table. The kitchen was also as he left it and just as he was about to chalk the door up to being distracted, his gaze fell on the wide open basement door. “Shit!”

The Governor rushed down, taking the stairs two at a time and swearing under his breath. It wasn’t impossible that he left the door to the basement open as well as the front door, but it was highly unlikely. He knew it was also possible that the boy had somehow managed to get his leg free of the trap and escape, leaving him without his favorite plaything. The Governor stopped short as he reached the bottom, the trap and the boy were gone. He scanned the room, hoping that by some chance he had gotten scared and hadn’t had the courage to leave. The breath left his lungs in a ragged gasp as he circled the room. His daughter’s body lay still on the floor, a knife wound in her forehead. “NO!” The Governor screamed, dropping to his knees beside his innocent little girl. “No baby girl, you can’t be gone.” He gathered her body in his arms and held it to his chest, sobs tearing from his throat and echoing off the concrete walls. “DAMN YOU RICK GRIMES!”

~~**~~

Dean rubbed his dry eyes and stifled a yawn. Hershel had done all he could for Sam’s leg and now the prison was in a waiting game. John sat by his sons’ sides, watching his blood flow from his arm into Sam’s.

“Dean, you should go and get some rest. You’ve been through a lot these past hours and it looks like you’re running on fumes,” John observed as his oldest listed briefly to the side.

“I can’t. What if Sam wakes up and I’m not here? He’ll think I abandoned him again! I spent weeks looking for Sammy and wondering if he was even still alive. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t been in the Governor’s house. Who knows what the Governor did to Sammy while he was down there?! I’m a failure dad! I failed to protect Sam from that monster! I should’ve gone back when I realized they had separated us! I should—”

“Dean!” John interrupted. “Stop blaming yourself for what you couldn’t control. Obsessing over these ‘what if?’ scenarios aren’t going to help Sam deal with what happened to him. Don’t you think I haven’t spent the last months that we’ve been apart wondering what happened to you boys? That I spent countless sleepless nights wondering ‘what if they got trapped in a building and couldn’t escape?’ ‘What if they got overrun by walkers while evacuating town?’ ‘What if someone robbed them and left them stranded by the side of the road?’ That kind of thinking isn’t healthy Dean. We can’t stay stuck in the past or in what could happen. None of that stuff matters right now. What matters is that we got Sam away from the Governor and he’s safe. He’s alive, and though he might live with a limp, he’s in one piece. We’re together as a family … and that’s the way it’s going to stay from now on. I’ll never leave you boys alone again.” John took Dean in a one-armed hug, being careful not to jostle the needle in his arm.

A small, pained moan pulled the two men from their thoughts. Dean looked up from the ground, hope brimming as tears in his eyes. “Sammy? Can you hear me?” Dean wondered softly, reaching out to grasp his little brother’s hand.

Sam groaned, shielding his eyes against the bright lights overhead. He turned his head towards the sound of a voice he never thought he’d hear again. “Dean?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah Sammy, it’s me.” Dean smiled, his voice cracking on a choked sob. He thanked God that his brother was going to be okay. “And guess what? Dad’s here too.”

Sam gasped, finally looking over at the other person at his bedside. “Dad! You’re okay! I can’t believe you’re here! Dean and I have been looking everywhere for you! But … where am I? Are we still in Woodbury?”

John shook his head. “No son, you’re safe now. You’re at an old prison. The kind people here took me in when I stumbled upon this place a few months ago. They helped Dean and I get you back. They won’t let the Governor get his hands on you ever again. When you’re feeling better, we’ll introduce you to everyone. They’ve been waiting to meet you.” John patted Sam’s knee, his hand a comforting presence for the youngest Winchester. “It’s good to have you back son.”


	11. This Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, not as long of a hiatus as I was expecting! I have to admit that I've been neglecting my duties as a fan-fic writer because of the addicting Pokemon Go. And with The Walking Dead on hiatus until October, I've been a bit short on inspiration. But not to fret my lovelies! Here's another brand new chapter!!
> 
> Much Love, Stacey

Maggie leaned against the infirmary door, listening to the three voices with a smile. The Winchesters were fighters, she couldn’t deny that. She thought it would be at least a few more days before Sam showed any signs of waking. It was good to hear life back in John’s voice as he murmured softly to his sons. There was a time where John Winchester seemed like a lost cause. Now though, he was saved because of his two young sons.

She pushed off from the door, striding into the room. “Hey Dean, John. It’s time to check Sam’s stitches,” She announced as she approached the three men. “We don’t want them to get infected, so it’s best that we check them every few hours for the first few days.”

Sam hunched in on himself at the woman’s voice. He remembered dad explaining that there were other people in the prison, but he didn’t think he’d have to see any of them for a while.

“Hi Sam, my name’s Maggie. I was one of the people who helped your brother get you out of Woodbury. And my father and I dressed your wounds when we got you back here. How are you feeling?” Maggie asked, dropping to her knees on the other side of Sam’s bed.

“My leg hurts really badly,” Sam mumbled. “And I’m starving. He didn’t feed me much when I was locked down there.”

Maggie nodded. “Okay. Well I can give you some medicine to help with the pain and once I’m done checking your leg, I’ll rustle up something for you to eat. Is that alright with you Sam?”

“Yes ma’am, thank you.”

Maggie chuckled. “Please, call me Maggie. Ma’am makes me sound so old.” She moved down to the foot of the bed, making sure not to make any sudden movements. Sam was probably going to be skittish for a while until he got used to being around people again. She gently pulled the tape up and unrolled the bloody gauze from around Sam’s calf. The stitches seemed to be holding up, and so far there was no sign of an infection. The kid was going to have a nasty scar, but it looked like he was going to live.

“So?” Dean wondered. “How does it look? Is Sammy going to be okay?”

“It’s looking pretty good so far, but it’s still too early to tell for sure. I won’t be able to always be the one to change Sam’s bandages, so you’ll have to know the signs of infection to look for. Discharge is a big one to watch out for. Some clear discharge is okay, but when it starts to look yellowish or like pus or have any kind of odd odor to it then we’ve got the beginnings of a problem. If you see red streaks spreading out from the stitches or if it’s hot to the touch then it’s definitely an infection. We have antibiotics stockpiled here in case that happens, but we are hoping to avoid that. And as always, if you have any questions you can come find me,” Maggie explained.

Dean watched as she smeared an antibiotic ointment over the stitches before covering them with fresh bandages. “Thanks again Maggie. It means a lot to all of us that you’ve helped us as much as you have.”

“Of course Dean. In this world you have to stick together with people; it’s the only way you’ll survive. And for what it’s worth, I really like all of you,” Maggie replied softly. “It was good meeting you Sam.” She patted Sam gently on his good leg as she stood. “If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you guys alone. Someone will come get you for dinner in a few hours. But holler if you need anything before then.”

Sam watched as Maggie left the infirmary. There was something about the woman that made him feel at ease; a feeling he hadn’t experienced since before he and Dean had stumbled upon Woodbury. He waited until he was sure Maggie was out of earshot before turning to his family and speaking.

“Is the Governor gonna come back for me?” Sam asked nervously. He couldn’t stop the flood of tears that welled in his eyes at the mention of that name.

John blinked back tears of his own. “I’m not going to lie to you Sam. He will most likely come and try to take you, but none of us here will ever let that happen. Okay? We’re prepared to fight and defend you and this place when the Governor comes. He’ll never put his hands on you again. You’re safe here.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “Yeah, dad’s right Sammy. Now that we’re back together, there’s nothing that can tear us apart. Nothing.”

\--------

Dean shot up in bed, an uneasy feeling surrounding him. He looked over at his father, who continued sleeping. When Dean had tried to return to the infirmary after dinner and a shower, Hershel insisted he and John get some real sleep in their room and leave Sam to get rest of his own. Dean’s sleep had been restless; plagued by nightmares of The Governor sneaking in while the prison slept and snatching Sam from them again.

Dean climbed silently out of bed and tiptoed past quiet cells. He made his way back to the infirmary, wondering if Maggie was on guard duty or if she had been checking on Sam throughout the night. Dean hoped Sam wasn’t having nightmares like him, but deep down knew his little brother probably was. You don’t go through being trapped in a basement for days on end without coming away with terrifying nightmares.

The doors to the infirmary were propped open like usual, and a single lantern illuminated the room around Sam’s bed. Dean made his way towards Sam, hoping not to wake him. Sam needed all the sleep he could get if he was ever going to get better. Dean stopped in his tracks at the foot of Sam’s bed, throat tightening with tears.

Sam was covered in sweat as he trashed on the bed, his rapid breathing loud in the otherwise quiet room. Dean dropped to his knees and reached up to brush the sodden bangs from Sam’s eyes. He ripped his hand away at the feel of scorching hot skin; Sam had a fever.

“Sammy? Sammy, wake up.” Dean said softly. “Come on Sammy, I need to know you’re okay.” Dean grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the bandages from around Sam’s leg. The gauze stuck to the wounds and Dean winced as he pulled them away. Dean took out the small flashlight he kept in his pocket and shined it on Sam’s leg.

“Shit!” Dean muttered at the sight. Streaks of red spread out from the stitches like the rays of the sun. He could tell without even putting a hand on him that the skin was radiating heat like a furnace. One of the things that Dean feared since bringing Sam to the prison was happening. Sam had an infection, and a severe one at that.

“MAGGIE!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. “DAD!” Dean jumped up from his knees, racing to the open infirmary door and screaming loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know! I'm sorry to leave you on such a cliffhanger, but it felt like a good place to stop. I promise in the next chapter we'll find out what happens to Sam.
> 
> Keep commenting and leaving Kudos!
> 
> Much Love, Stacey


	12. A Loaded Gun

Maggie had just dropped off her rifle in their makeshift armory at the end of her guard shift when Dean’s panicked voice rang through the silent prison. “Shit,” Maggie swore under her breath. She sprinted through the prison towards the infirmary, where she had a feeling Dean was. She nearly collided with John as he left his room, their faces betraying the fear they felt.

As they rounded the corner, they could see Dean standing in the doorway, a frantic look on his face as he waved them in. “Sammy’s got an infection! It’s really bad! And I can’t get him to wake up!”

Maggie ran to the supply cabinet in the corner, rifling through boxes and pill bottles until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed a small vial and a syringe and moved to Sam’s bedside. “I’m going to give Sam some antibiotics for right now until I can find the items I need to start intravenous medication.” Maggie turned to Dean. “I need you to go into the showers and get as many towels as you can and run them under the cold water. We need to get Sam’s body temperature down or he’s going to burn off all the medicine before it can do its job.”

Dean nodded, jumping to his feet and taking off towards the showers.

John watched Maggie work, a heavy weight in his chest. “Why don’t we take Sam and put him under the shower? Won’t that be better for him?” John asked.

Maggie shook her head. “That’s going to be a last resort. It may be too much of a shock to his system. I want to limit the amount that we move Sam so we don’t aggravate his injury. But if the towels don’t work to bring down his temperature, then we’ll move him to the showers.” Come on kiddo, you have to pull through.

Dean threw open locker doors, grabbing as many towels as he could carry and dumping them on the floor of one of the stalls. He turned the cold water on full blast, soaking the towels in seconds. But to Dean, it felt like an eternity. Every minute that Sam’s body temperature stayed above normal increased the chance of his organs sustaining permanent damage.

Dean grabbed the towels and squeezed out most of the excess water. He raced back to the infirmary, tears burning like fire in the backs of his eyes. He couldn’t lose Sammy after just getting him back. “Hang in there Sammy,” Dean whispered as he burst into the room and over to Sam’s bed. It took everything Dean had not to fall to his knees and cry at the sight of just how much worse his brother had gotten during the short time Dean had been gone.

“Thank you Dean,” Maggie said, pulling Dean from his inner torture. “Put one on his forehead and one under his neck. We need to draw as much heat from his body as quickly as we can, so put one on each of his hands and his good foot. I may need to open the wound back up and irrigate it to clean out any pus.”

John helped Dean place the towels across Sam’s body, praying with each one that his youngest son would pull through. His hands trembled as he laid a towel over Sam’s arm. “We’re here Sam, we’re right here beside you. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Maggie? What’s going on?” Beth asked sleepily from the doorway, stifling a yawn. “We heard shouting.”

Maggie turned back to her sister. “Sam’s got an infection, but we’ve got it handled. Why don’t you go back to bed? You’ve got training in the morning with the others.”

Beth shook her head, shuffling into the room. “I won’t be able to fall back asleep so soon. I’ll stay and keep Sam company.” She took up vigil at the head of the cot, running gentle fingers through Sam’s hair.

“Okay Beth, you can stay. But you need to listen to everything I tell you,” Maggie replied, turning back to her patient. She grabbed a small pair of scissors from the tray beside her and set to carefully cutting the stitches from Sam’s leg. Her hands were steady as she worked, efficiently pulling the tiny pieces of thread from the mess that the wound had become. Maggie prayed that the wound wasn’t becoming gangrenous; if that was the case, Sam would lose his leg and probably his life.

“You need to pull through Sam. We're all here waiting to meet you properly. We can’t let the Governor win,” Beth murmured softly. “Don’t you want to look the bastard in the eye and cut his balls off?”

Maggie smiled to herself; her little sister always did have a great bedside manner. “The towels seem to be working, I think his fever is starting to come down. I’ll be able to give him more antibiotics soon.” Then it would become a waiting game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's such a short chapter! I figured you'd rather have a short chapter than no chapter at all.
> 
> Much Love, S


	13. Bad Moon Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the long, sudden hiatus. I was really sick a few weeks ago (it happens every year when the little kids go back to school) but I'm back now. And I've come to a part in the story where I find myself stuck more often than not, and that makes for slow updates.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> -S

The Governor put a hand up to halt his strike team. The moon slid behind the thickening clouds and cast the prison and surrounding forest in darkness. Now was the perfect time to exact vengeance on Rick Grimes and his half-ass attempt at a functioning town. He could finally get his revenge on the people who stole his daughter away from him. The Governor scanned the fence line, scoping out a good place to enter the prison without being seen by the guards or the Walkers.

“Allman and Crosby I want you to head left and draw that pack of Walkers away from the fence. Avoid using your guns for as long as possible. Harris, take the others and head to the gate. You’re on distraction duty so I can get into the prison without being detected. I’m going to rip that kid and his fucking brother apart,” The Governor stated coldly.

The men nodded and broke away, each knowing that if they failed there would be no going back to Woodbury. Either Rick’s people would kill them, or the Governor would. Harris led his group of men towards the front gate, raising his gun and firing a shot at the guard tower.

“Grimes! Get your ass out here!” Harris shouted. The Governor nodded; Harris was a good soldier who knew how to follow orders.

Allman and Crosby on the other hand, were good in a fight, but not for much else. They still had too much free will and didn’t always listen to him when it was needed. The Governor watched them approach the group of Walkers near the fence and pull out their machetes. Three Walkers went down before others in the group picked up the scent of fresh living meat.

The sound of voices drew the Governor’s attention back towards the gate. He spotted Rick leading the charge of their able bodied adults towards the threat at their door. Everything was going exactly as planned so far. The Governor smiled to himself and took off towards the fence, bolt cutters in hand.

“I’m coming for you Winchesters,” The Governor muttered with a sneer.

\----------

Dean looked up at the sound of shouting. “Dad? Maggie? What’s going on?” He panicked, tightening his grip on Sam’s hand.

Maggie finished placing a fresh bandage over Sam’s leg wound. She’d been able to clean the wound of pus and avoid amputating the young boy’s foot. “It sounds like something’s going on at the gate. We should go check it out John, It might be Woodbury.”

John nodded, rising to his feet. “Dean, stay here and look out for Sam. He needs you now more than ever. Shoot anyone that comes in here who’s not from the prison; Shoot to kill Dean,” John ordered, clapping Dean on the shoulder.

“Will do sir. I won’t let anyone get close to Sammy,” Dean replied, glancing up at his father.

Maggie turned to Beth. “I want you to go and keep an eye on the little ones. Make sure they stay quiet and don’t come out until one of us comes to get you. We’re all counting on you Beth.”

Beth jumped to her feet. “I won’t let you down Maggie.” She ran from the room towards the living quarters. There was a designated safe room that all the kids were supposed to go to in case of a perimeter breach. It was never in the same place twice and always in a spot that would be difficult for someone not familiar with the prison to get to.

Maggie jogged to the supply closet, moving boxes out of the way and pulling out a pistol. She handed it to Dean, who took it with a stern expression. “If someone comes in here that’s not one of us … shoot to kill. Do whatever you have to do to protect Sam.”

Dean took the gun and flicked off the safety, checked the number of bullets, and tucked it in his waistband. “We should have some kind of code word so I don’t accidently shoot one of our people.”

John nodded. “If you hear someone and you’re not sure who it is, yell ‘thunder.’ If it’s one of us, we’ll respond with ‘lightning.’”

“Got it,” Dean remarked. “Now go before they get inside. Rick will need the both of you.” Dean knew if his father stayed in the infirmary any longer, he would see the pure fear in Dean’s eyes.

Dean watched as the two raced from the room to join the fighting at the front lines. He turned back to Sam’s prone form, willing him to stay strong and fight the infection. “You’re safe Sammy; I’ll protect you. Just like always.”

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” The Governor called out as he slipped into the prison unnoticed. “I know you’re hiding around here somewhere. You can’t hide from me forever, my little plaything.”

Dean froze, an all too familiar voice echoing in the silence. No, it couldn’t be true. There was no way the Governor could’ve gotten into the prison without someone at the gate seeing him. Dean surveyed the room, looking for any place where he could hide Sam and keep him safe from the Governor. There was the small supply closet where Maggie grabbed the pistol from; it would have to do in a pinch.

“Come on Sammy, we’ve got to get moving. It’s not safe out here in the open,” Dean said aloud, mostly to himself. He scooped Sam up in his arms bridal style, making sure to grab the IV bag too. Dean couldn’t deny the tightness in his chest when Sam didn’t even stir. If Sam died … Dean would feed the Governor to the Walkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I know, I'm sorry it's so short! But again I figured a short chapter was better than no chapter at all.
> 
> -S


	14. Blown Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm so excited to be able to present you with another chapter! And I'm super excited for the new season of TWD that premieres this sunday!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> Much Love, S

Dean shouldered open the closet door and set Sam down gently on a few boxes in the back, hanging the IV bag from a nearby shelf. He shut the door as softly as he could, trying not to make a single sound. Dean pulled the gun from his waistband and flicked off the safety, setting himself between Sam and the door.

“Are you hiding in here?” The Governor called out as he pushed open the infirmary doors. As his eyes swept the room slowly, his gaze landed on the dried pool of blood on one of the cots. The blood looked fairly fresh and with that much spilled, the boy should still be in the room. “I know you’re in here.” The Governor’s voice took on a creepy singing lilt as he walked the perimeter of the room. “You can’t hide from me forever, Sammy.”

Dean resisted the urge to kick down the door and confront the Governor with guns blazing. No one was allowed to call him Sammy but Dean. But Dean didn’t know how well armed the Governor was, and didn’t want to risk being killed and leaving Sam vulnerable to that monster. Dean gripped his gun tighter, trying to force his hands to stop shaking. He could hear the Governor opening the various doors around the infirmary; each time calling out for the youngest Winchester.

The heavy footsteps stopped outside the door to their hiding place and Dean held his breath. A tear slid unnoticed down his cheek. “Are you in here little rabbit?” The Governor wondered. The doorknob rattled as the Governor gripped it, and Dean watched helplessly as the knob turned and the door swung open.

“Well, well, well. Look at what we have here,” The Governor sneered. Dean looked up at the sound of the all too familiar voice; he hadn’t realized he’d shut his eyes. The Governor looked exactly like he had when Dean had escaped Woodbury, though he now sported an eye-patch thanks to Dean’s knife. Dean tried to put on a brave face, hoping the Governor couldn’t see the fear that lay just beneath.

“I’ll give you one chance to turn around and leave this place forever. Or I’ll take your other eye out,” Dean growled, raising his gun. “You’re not welcome here!”

The Governor laughed, taking a step closer to the two boys. “I can go wherever I damn well please. You’re not man enough to pull that trigger, little boy. So why don’t you just step aside? I’ll take my bitch and be on my way.” He lunged, grabbing for Dean’s gun before Dean could get a shot off.

“He’s not your bitch! He’s my little brother and I won’t let you hurt him!” Dean kicked out at the Governor, aiming for his jewels. The Governor easily sidestepped the wide kick, pulling Dean out of the closet.

The two men struggled for control of the gun. The Governor had at least 100 pounds on Dean, plus years of fighting experience, but Dean wasn’t going to give up without a fight. The Governor caught Dean in the side of the jaw, causing stars to explode across the young boy’s vision. He followed it up with three quick knees to his stomach and one to his nuts, driving the air from Dean’s lungs. The Governor head butted Dean, shattering his nose. Dean spit blood from his mouth, smirking as it hit the Governor in his good eye.

“You’re gonna regret that you little bastard!” The Governor surged forward, slamming Dean hard against the wall. Dean bit back a groan as the back of his head cracked on the concrete, black dots swarming the edges of his peripheral.

Dean felt his grip on the gun beginning to slip, but he couldn’t give up yet. A surge of adrenaline shot through Dean’s system as he continued to struggle with the Governor.

“I won’t let you have Sam!”

A single shot rang through the still air, and Dean felt warmth spread over his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know I left you on such a big cliffhanger, but it seemed appropriate to stop where I did.
> 
> Much Love, S


	15. Song Of The Caged Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a flashback to Sam's time with the Governor. Someone suggested a flashback of what happened to Sam instead of the chunk of dialogue in the first chapter where Dean tells Rick, Carl and Michonne what he saw. So a little bit of the first chapter is changed, but nothing that affects the rest of the story.
> 
> -S

_“What’s the matter little dove?” The Governor asked with a saccharine sweet smile full of teeth. He trailed a hand up and down the young boy’s bare arm, grinning at the goose-bumps that sprung up in his wake._

_“Please, I just want to go back to my room and sleep,” Sam shuddered, trying to scoot subtly off the bed. “My brother and I will be out of your town in a few days. Once my leg gets better, we’ll be gone.”_

_“Well then I guess we better make the most of the little time we have together,” The Governor remarked. “I’ve been watching you ever since you and that brother of yours stumbled up to my town’s gates. There’s just something about you that calls to me, little dove. The innocence in your eyes.”_

_The Governor threw an arm around Sam’s shoulders, pulling the boy closer to him and muffling his scared whimpers with a kiss. He shoved his tongue in Sam’s mouth, greedily chasing the lingering taste of the blueberries he’d fed the boy. Sam pushed against the Governor’s chest, but the man was far too heavy for him to move._

_Sam was desperate to get away and bit down on the Governor’s tongue, the coppery tang of blood filling his mouth. The Governor pulled back with a pained yelp, striking Sam hard across the cheek with the back of his hand. He spat blood on Sam, fire raging in his eyes._

_“That was a bad idea. You really shouldn’t have done that, boy. Now you’re going to have to pay,” The Governor growled, shoving the boy down onto his back on the bed. He undid his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to free himself, half hard cock slapping against his belly. “You and your brother come into my town and walk around like you own the place. But you don’t, I do. And what I say goes. The people here understand that; they know to obey my orders without question, whatever those may be. That’s just how it works around here. You and your brother need to learn that. You need to learn your place here. And that’s under me, bitch.”_

_“No!” Sam panicked, scrambling from the bed and running towards the door. Sam was fast, but the Governor was faster. He grabbed Sam by his hair and dragged the boy kicking back to the bed._

_“Unless you want to go back to your brother as a Walker, I suggest you stay still and don’t move off this fucking bed again.” The Governor slapped Sam again for good measure. “Get on your hands and knees, now.”_

_Sam shook his head, there was no way in hell he was just going to roll over for this psycho. Dean wouldn’t. “No please, just let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone what you tried to do.”_

_The Governor tsked. It seemed as though Woodbury’s newest resident still didn’t understand how things worked in this town. “Well if you don’t want to do as I say, then you’ll look me straight in the eye while I do this to you. You brought this on yourself, Sam. Just remember that.” The man reached over to the nightstand drawer, pulling out a length of blood stained rope. He tied it around Sam’s wrists, immobilizing the boy before tying the other end to the headboard._

_Sam struggled in his bonds, kicking out at the Governor. “No please! I don’t want this! Don’t do this!”_

_“You forced me to do this Sam. You and your brother both.” The Governor spit into his hand, smearing it over his now hard and swollen cock. “You should be thanking me for giving you lube. Most of the boys around here take me dry like a champ and thank me for it afterwards.”_

_Sam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the squelching sounds of the man above him slicking his cock. The Governor gripped Sam’s jaw painfully until his eyes sprang open, shining with tears. “You will look at me until I say you’re done. Am I understood?”_

_Sam nodded as best he could in the Governor’s grasp. Bile rose in his throat as the Governor pulled Sam’s shorts down and off his stick thin legs. “I’m gonna pop your cherry good, boy. You’ll be feeling me for days; every time you sit down at the table for dinner, every time you’re in the shower, every time you lie down at night.”_

_The Governor lifted Sam’s legs to his chest, exposing the boy’s puckered hole for his hungry lustful gaze. “Such a pretty little hole for me. Let’s see it open up for my cock.” He pressed his cock-head to Sam’s virgin entrance, meeting resistance. He grunted as he pushed harder past the tight ring, hot tight heat engulfing the head. Sam cried out as he was breached for the first time, the length inside him unyielding as it continued carving a path through his bowels. Sam felt himself tear, blood adding another layer of lubrication to the Governor’s thick member._

_“Please stop! You’re hurting me! Help me, someone!” Sam screamed at the top of his lungs, praying that somewhere in the noise of the town outside the windows, somebody heard his call for help._

_“There’s no one to help you boy. These people are nothing but sheep. All I have to do is offer them safety and they let me do whatever I want. I can have whoever I want, whenever I want. Even your brother can’t save you now,” The Governor chuckled as he thrust in hard, driving the last few inches into the young boy. He moaned as Sam’s channel milked his cock, wanting more even as the boy’s mind rebelled. The Governor set a quick but brutal pace, driving tears from Sam’s eyes with each thrust._

_“You better hope your brother won’t notice my seed dripping out of your used cunt after I’m done with you. Then he’ll know what a dirty little slut you really are. Then he’ll know how you’ll spread your legs for any man who asks.” The Governor was nearing completion, his thrusts losing their rhythm and becoming animalistic and staccato. The Governor roared as he let loose inside of Sam, filling the young boy with his cum. “You’re my bitch now, and I’m never letting you go!”_

Sam awoke with a gasp.


	16. Heathens

Sam stared up at a dark, unfamiliar ceiling, trying to catch his breath and clear the cobwebs from his brain. He couldn’t remember much of the past few days, delirious from the pain and infection that had taken hold. Sam thought he vaguely recalled seeing his brother and hearing his voice telling him everything was okay as he kept watch over him, but he couldn’t be sure it hadn’t been a hallucination. A shudder ran down his spine when he remembered all the times he had hallucinated his brother while locked away in the Governor’s basement.

“D’n?” Sam called out, voice hoarse and throat full of cotton. He licked his chapped lips; what he wouldn’t give for a drink of water. He tried to sit up, but he was still too weak from battling the infection caused by the bear trap. His arms shook as he collapsed back onto the boxes beneath him. “Dean?”

A woman stepped into his field of vision, blocking out what little light the open doorway had provided. She looked vaguely familiar, but Sam couldn’t place a name to her face. “Sam, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” The woman asked gently.

“My leg hurts really badly. And I could use some water,” Sam replied softly. “Where am I? Who are you? Where’s Dean?”

The woman smiled kindly down at him. “My name’s Maggie, and you’re safe here at the prison. Your brother and I brought you here from Woodbury. You gave us quite a scare with developing an infection, but it looks as though the antibiotics are working.”

“Where’s Dean?” Sam asked again. He needed to see his brother and make sure that he hadn’t been a trick of his mind. He had to know for sure that Dean had come back for him.

Maggie sighed. “The men from Woodbury showed up at the prison. While the rest of us were defending the gate, the Governor slipped in and he and Dean had a confrontation.”

The breath left Sam’s lungs in a stuttered breath. “Where’s my brother?! What happened to him?” Sam began to panic; Dean wouldn’t leave without checking to make sure Sam was okay. Something must have happened to Dean … something bad.

Maggie shushed Sam’s tears; the young boy wasn’t even aware he’d been crying. “He’s being tended to by Hershel. He’s got some pretty bad bruises on his stomach; we’re watching him for internal bleeding. And his nose is broken for sure. There was a lot of blood and we’re just trying to figure out how much of it is his. As soon as Hershel clears him, you know he’ll be right here by your side.” Maggie stroked her fingers through Sam’s hair gently, hoping to calm the boy down from a panic attack.

“Wait, what about my dad? Is he with Dean?” Sam asked.

Maggie looked away, unable to meet the young boy’s eyes. This was something Dean should tell him; it wasn’t her place to break that kind of news. “Well Sam, about your father…”

Sam paled, chest tightening as his heart began to race. “Wh-what happened to him? Tell me! Where’s my dad?!”

Maggie’s face dropped. “I’m so sorry Sam. But your dad is—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm sorry! I'm so sorry to end the chapter like that, but I had to!
> 
> Much Love, S


	17. Like A City Of Angels

_“Your dad is badly hurt. We don’t know if he’s going to make it.”_ Maggie’s words swirled around in Sam’s head, tears filling the young boy’s eyes.

“Help me up. I need to see him,” Sam stated, groaning as he tried to sit up. 

Maggie stepped close and scooped Sam up in her arms. “I want you to stay off your foot for as long as possible so it can heal,” She replied when Sam gave her an inquisitive look. She made her way out of the supply closet and out into the infirmary. “One of the Woodbury men was targeting Rick and your father stepped between them. He took a shot to the gut and he’s in a lot of pain. We gave him some morphine to try to make him as comfortable as possible. Hershel did everything he could; now we just have to wait.”

Tears slipped down Sam’s cheeks as he surveyed the room. Dean was sitting on a cot, eyes constantly glancing towards their father as Hershel dabbed at the blood flowing from Dean’s nose. “Dean,” Sam whispered. Dean’s gaze whipped over at the sound of his brother’s voice, his shoulders visibly dropping in either relief or defeat.

Dean grabbed the rag from Hershel and pressed it under his nose as he rose to his feet. He crossed the room quickly, needing to make sure that Sam was alright. “Sammy, you’re awake. You had me really scared there for a minute. How are you feeling?” Dean asked, his voice a little nasally. A dark bruise had blossomed across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes.

“My leg still hurts a lot, but other than that I’m fine.” Sam paused to swipe at the tears in his eyes. “Maggie told me about dad. H-how is he?”

“He’s not doing too well, Sammy. He took a rifle shot in the stomach and he’s already lost a lot of blood. We don’t have the equipment here for a major surgery like he needs, so we’re just trying to make him as comfortable as we can. But you know dad, he’s going to fight his damnedest to pull through.” Dean ran a hand through Sam’s hair, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “He’s been asking for you. Are you ready to see him?”

Sam nodded, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck as he was transferred from one person to another. Dean turned and walked towards a bed apart from the rest in the corner. Their father lay on the worn cot, blood soaked bandages wrapped tightly around his stomach. His skin was sickly pale and covered in a layer of sweat. Sam wondered if he’d looked somewhat similar when he had first been brought into the prison.

“Hey dad,” Dean began as he sat Sam down on the edge of the cot. “Sam’s awake.”

John turned his head, glazed over eyes searching out the faces of his sons in the fog that surrounded him. “Dean. Sam. My boys.” He reached out and cupped Sam’s face in his hand. “You both look so much like your mother sometimes, it’s like she’s still here. Like I can see her in your eyes and in your smiles. She lives on in the two of you, and I hope I will as well.”

Sam held his father’s hand to his face. “Dad, please don’t go. We just found each other again; I’m not ready to lose you. If we lose you then he wins. Please dad.”

John smiled at his youngest son. “We don’t always get to choose how we leave this world, but we can choose what we leave this world. And I’m proud to say that I’m leaving you and Dean to help others in this fucked-up world. So you go and you help people survive, and never forget me and your mother. You boys are the best things I ever did in my life. I love you both so much. Never forget that.”

John’s hand slipped away from Sam’s face, falling limp at his side. “Dad? Dad, please. Dad!” Sam cried, collapsing onto his father’s still chest in sobs. Dean rubbed Sam’s back gently, helping his brother through his tears even when his own cascaded silently down his cheeks.

Like so many times before, the two young Winchesters were alone again.


	18. Come Join The Murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I killed off John! You should be thankful...my original idea was to kill off Dean, but decided against it. 
> 
> Also, I'm not sure how many more chapters this will have, maybe one or two at the most. I don't want this to drag on forever.
> 
> Much Love,
> 
> S

Dean pulled the knife from his boot, the light glinting off the metal. “We’re going to have to do it before he turns. You know he would understand if you weren’t here to see it.”

Sam turned to face his brother, tear tracks drying on his face. “No, we should both be here. It’s what dad would’ve wanted. We can share the burden of it together.” He wrapped his hand around Dean’s, their hands shaking.

They lifted the knife, placing the tip on John’s temple. Sam closed his eyes as they pressed forward, shoving the knife into his brain. Dean sobbed, his hand falling away from the knife. He gathered Sam into his arms, burying his face in his brother’s shoulder.

“Where is he?” Sam whispered, clutching the fabric of Dean’s shirt tightly. “Where is the Governor?”

“He’s locked in one of the cells in A block. Glenn and Rick are keeping guard. You don’t have to worry about him for much longer Sammy, I promise.” Dean’s voice was thick with tears.

“Take me to him. I want to see him,” Sam muttered.

Dean pulled back, wiping the tears from Sam’s face. “You don’t have to see him. He’ll be dead come morning anyway. We were struggling with the gun and it went off. He caught a bullet in the thigh that grazed the major artery. He’s going to bleed out in that cell and we never have to deal with him again.”

Sam shoved Dean away. “You don’t get it Dean. I have to see him! He needs to see me and know that he didn’t break me; that he didn’t win. Please, Dean! I need find closure from Woodbury. How am I supposed to move on if I don’t get to look that son of a bitch in the eye and get one good shot in?”

Dean chewed on his bottom lip, wondering if letting the Governor anywhere near Sammy was a good idea. “Let’s ask Maggie and see what she thinks. I really don’t want you getting near him. Who knows what he’ll try to do?” He stood up and motioned for Maggie to come over.

“Is everything alright Dean? How’s John?” Maggie asked as she approached.

Dean shook his head. “He’s gone. We already took care of it. But there’s something we need to ask you.”

Maggie sat down on the cot across from them. “What is it? You know you boys can ask me anything.”

Sam spoke up before Dean could try to convince Maggie. “I want to see the Governor. I need to see him before he dies so I can put this all behind me. I won’t be able to move on if I don’t. But Dean doesn’t understand that.”

Maggie put her hand up to halt Sam’s frantic words. “I understand, Sam. And I agree with you. I think it would be a good idea for you to see the Governor so that he no longer has any control over your life. But you know that you can’t see him alone. Dean and I are going to be there with you, so we can pull you away if things start going south. But if we’re going to do this, it has to be known. Hershel says he won’t survive the night.”

“Good,” Sam stated coldly. “That’s far longer than I need him.”

~~**~~

“Look who it is,” The Governor chuckled as Sam entered his line of sight. He was slumped over in a chair, a bloody tourniquet tied around his thigh. His skin was pale and a sickly sheen of sweat covered him.

“Fuck you,” Sam spat. “You don’t get to talk anymore. Now it’s _my_ turn. You stole months of my life from me! You used me! You forced yourself on me like I was one of those brainwashed women in Woodbury! Those people are just as guilty as you are for what you did to me! I’m going to go to Woodbury and burn it and everyone in it to the _ground!_ ”

The Governor grinned predatorily at the young boy. “You’re fooling yourself Sammy. You and I both know you loved every minute of it. I bet you haven’t told your brother of how you begged me to let you cum; how you promised you would be my good little boy. Why don’t you tell him how you came on my cock every time like a cheap whore?”

Sam screamed, pounding against the bars. “You’re lying! You’re nothing but a fucking liar!” He grabbed Maggie’s pistol from its holster and pointed it at the Governor.

“Sam no!” Dean shouted, stepping forward to try and get the gun from Sam.

Sam closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger, splattering the Governor’s brains all over the back wall of the cell.


	19. I'm Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So unfortunately these will be the last two chapters of What's Dead Should Stay Dead. I don't want this story to drag on and on and lose quality, and this seemed like a good place to end it. These last two chapters will be long to make up for it.
> 
>  
> 
> Much Love, S

Sam dropped the gun with a sigh, his heart feeling lighter at the sight of the Governor slumped over dead in his chair. “You can’t hurt me ever again, _asshole._ ”

Dean stared at his brother. He couldn’t believe Sam had just done that. He never thought Sam had it in him to kill another human being like that. But at the same time he couldn’t blame him for wanting the Governor dead. Dean just wanted a little more time to torture him before he was killed.

“Come on Sam,” Maggie said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the group. “Let’s get some food in you. You haven’t eaten in days; I’m surprised you’re even standing right now.”

Sam looked up at Maggie, then looked back towards the infirmary where John’s body lay. “B-but we need to bury dad. He deserves that,” Sam pleaded.

Maggie placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Sam. Of course we’re going to give John a proper send-off. But that can wait until after you and Dean are taken care of. You both need to eat and have a shower. We’ll gather everyone and hold a service out in the yard.”

Beth entered then, holding a pair of crutches. “Look! I found these in a closet near the mess hall. I figured Sam could use them instead of being carried around everywhere.” She handed them to him, a smile on her face; oblivious to what had just happened.

“Thanks Beth. I hated not being mobile,” Sam replied gratefully. “A shower sounds really good right now. Does that mean you have hot water here?”

Beth chuckled. “Only for the showers. It took a lot of redneck ingenuity and jerry-rigging but we managed it. Come on, I’ll show you where they are.”

Dean watched Sam hobble after Beth, their voices echoing in the air long after they were out of sight. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I think I’m going to clean dad up a bit before the service. I saw some clean clothes in our room. I don’t want Sammy last memory of our dad to be him covered in blood. Dad deserves better than that. It’s bad enough that I’ll be dealing with Sam having nightmares for who knows how long, I’m not going to pile that on top of it too.”

Maggie nodded, placing an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “I think that’s a good idea. Your father would be very proud of you both. You’ve shown such courage these past few days and I know he and your mother are looking down on you now.” She squeezed Dean in a brief hug. “I think we have some of Carol’s apple pie left over in the mess hall when you’re done. You look like the type who loves himself a good pie.”

~~**~~

Sam thanked Beth again as she held open the door to the showers for him. 

“No problem Sam. There are towels and some soap in that first locker there. I’ll wait out here for you.” Beth closed the door behind her, leaving Sam alone.

He let out a breath, his hands trembling as the adrenaline from confronting the Governor wore off. He couldn’t believe he did that; he’d killed someone. Of course, the Governor had deserved it and so much more, but Sam had never taken a human’s life before. It was so different from taking out Walkers that Sam questioned if it had been the right thing to do. Sam shook his head. No, it was the right thing … the only thing to do. He couldn’t take the chance of the Governor escaping and trying to take him from Dean again.

Sam set his crutches beside one of the shower stalls and began stripping out of his borrowed clothes. Dean must have dressed him while he’d been unconscious, since the shirt smelled faintly like his brother and the shorts were a size too big for him. He reached down and slowly pulled off the bandages around his leg, seeing his injury for the first time. The skin around his stitches was still a little red and swollen from what he could only assume was the infection Dean mentioned, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he had been expecting.

He turned on the water, setting it to as hot as he could handle, needing to burn off the feeling of the Governor’s stare. He stood under the spray, tears mixing with the water cascading down his face. Sam wrapped his arms around his stomach, sobs bubbling from his throat. It was hard for him to believe that so soon after being reunited, his dad was ripped away from him forever. He slid down the wall of the shower, covering his face with his hands as he cried. The water beat down on him, washing the dirt and sins from his body.

Sam sat in the shower until the tears ran dry and the water started to grow cold. He knew that if he didn’t go back out there soon Dean would come looking for him, and Sam didn’t want him to see him like this. He hauled himself to his feet, wrapping the towel around his thin body. He didn’t want Dean to see the bruises and scars that still littered his body; a tapestry of abuse and rape at the hands of the Governor.

He dressed quickly, making a mental note to have Maggie redress his wounds once they air dried. He hoped they wouldn’t scar too badly, so that he could move on from what happened. Beth was right where she said she would be, waiting against the opposite wall with a gentle smile on her face. Sam wondered if she had heard him crying.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I think there’s some apple pie left that Carol made the other day,” Beth remarked, pushing off from the wall.

Sam laughed, adjusting the crutches in his armpits. “If Dean caught word of it, there won’t be any left by the time we get there. He’s a sucker for good pie. But that’s okay, I’m not really in the mood for pie. Do you guys have any fruits or vegetables?”

Beth nodded. “Oh yeah, we’ve got tons. Rick and Hershel planted a garden in a section of the yard once we got this place cleaned out. It’s got tons of veggies and some fruit too like berries and I think we might some watermelon that’s ripe. That can be hit and miss sometimes because of the heat.”

“Sounds good to me!” Sam replied. They fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the tapping of his crutches on the cement floor. Sam could feel his arms starting to tire already; his strength almost entirely gone after spending so long without moving or adequate food. All he wanted to do was find a bed and sleep for days. Sam hoped that once he got something in his system he would have enough energy to get him through his dad’s burial.

“Sammy? Hello … anyone home?”

Sam started, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized they had stopped walking and that he was standing in the middle of the mess hall staring off into space. Dean dropped the hand that he had been waving in front of Sam’s face. He had a plate of pie in his other hand.

“Sorry about that, I was just thinking. I see you heard about Carol’s apple pie too. Did you save any for anyone else?” Sam followed Dean to a table, sinking down with a sigh of relief into the seat.

Dean punched Sam in the arm, taking a huge bite of pie with a smile to prove how much of a jerk his little brother was being. “Of course I left some. I gotta go back for seconds, don’t I?” Dean joked with a full mouth.

“Okay, settle down boys. Here’s some oatmeal with honey for you, Sam. We don’t want you to eat too much right away, otherwise you’ll just throw it all up. If you can keep this down after a few hours, then you can some more,” Maggie said as she set a bowl down in front of Sam, ruffling Dean’s hair as she passed.

Sam smiled up at her. “Thanks Maggie. This looks amazing!”

Maggie bent down and pressed a kiss to the crown of Sam’s head. “You’re welcome sweetie. When you boys are finished eating, come out to the yard. Rick and Daryl are getting everything set up for your dad’s send-off.”

“Thanks Maggie … for everything,” Dean said softly, watching Sam dig into the first real meal he’d had in days. If it hadn’t been for Maggie, he might’ve never gotten Sam out of Woodbury.


	20. The Lost Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sadly this is the final chapter of What's Dead Should Stay Dead! I hope you enjoy this ending, and please comment what you thought of the story.
> 
> Much Love, 
> 
> S

Maggie leaned down and pressed a kiss to Dean’s head too. “No problem, Dean. Now I don’t want you gorging yourself on pie. I want to see you eating real food.”

Dean blushed as Sam laughed. “Yes ma’am.” Dean slowed down, savoring each bite of Carol’s delicious apple pie.

Maggie smiled and moved to one of the other tables to converse with Carol and Beth, but kept a close eye on the two boys. She knew deep down that they would be alright without their father, but a part of her wondered if the young boys would ever be the same again. She hoped that she could convince the boys to stay in the prison where they could be taken care of. Maggie nodded to herself, seeing the genuine smile that Sam gave his older brother.

“So what happens next, Dean?” Sam asked as he savored his first real meal in days.

“What do you mean?” Dean had finished his slice of pie and was in the process of licking his plate and fork clean. Carol knew how to make a killer apple pie.

“What happens with us now that dad is gone? Where do we go from here?”

Dean reached out, stilling his brother’s shaking hand. Sam hadn’t even realized he’d started to tremble. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can stay here with these people. We can be safe. The only reason we were always moving in the first place was because we were looking for dad. And … he would want us to stay.”

“B-but what if they don’t let us stay? What if they kick us out?” Sam panicked. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of being forced to leave, especially when he was still so vulnerable.

“Are you kidding Sammy? They wouldn’t kick us out when we’ve got no place else to go. And Maggie loves you; she’d never let you leave. They want us to be a part of their family, and I want that for us too. We deserve to be happy after all the shit we’ve been through. I mean hell, they took dad in when he showed up here. They watched over him to make sure he was going to be okay, and I know they’ll do the same for us.” Dean set his plate aside and moved to sit next to Sam, throwing an arm around his thin shoulders.

Sam leaned against his brother, resting his head on his shoulder. It was times like this that he wished for his dad; John always knew just what to do.

“I know there are a lot of uncertainties right now, but we’ll get through this together Sammy, we always do. And we don’t have to do this alone. We’ve got Maggie and Glenn, and Rick and Hershel and everyone here to help us. And I’m never going to leave you, no matter what. I promise.” Dean pressed a kiss to the crown of Sam’s head, tears falling down his face to drip into his brother’s hair.

“Are you ready to go send dad off?” Dean asked after a moment to compose himself. He didn’t want Sam to know he’d been crying. He had to be strong for Sammy.

Sam nodded, reaching up to swipe at his cheeks. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Dean helped Sam to his feet, keeping a hand at the small of his back. They followed Maggie and Carol out of the mess hall and out towards the yard. Sam had taken to the crutches quite quickly, maneuvering around the prison with relative ease.

“How’s your ankle, Sammy?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “It feels alright, I guess. It still hurts a lot. I’m gonna ask Maggie to wrap it back up after this is done. I hate looking at it right now. It’s so ugly.”

“It’s not that bad actually. You looked a lot worse when we first brought you back here. We weren’t sure whether or not you’d lose your foot. It was touch and go there for a while.” Dean held the door open for Sam, suddenly unsure if he’d be able to keep it together when they gave John his proper send-off.

Sam fell silent as they stepped out into the yard. The entire prison was gathered around a surprisingly well built pyre, where John’s body lay wrapped in a white sheet. Tears pooled in Sam’s eyes, spilling over to cascade down his cheeks. He looked up at Dean, who was in a similar state.

“Y-you guys didn’t have to do all this,” Dean gasped. “But dad would have really appreciated this, Maggie.”

Maggie turned back towards the boys, taking them both in her arms. “It’s the least we can do for John. He was one of us, and now you boys are too. He helped us defend our home against Woodbury; he saved Michonne from the Governor. Now, why don’t we get started?”

Dean nodded, reaching out to rest his hand over Sam’s where it gripped the crutch. Rick looked both boys in the eyes before moving to stand beside the pyre.

“Today we gather here to say goodbye to a man who had shown us time and time again that there are still good people in this world. John was a gift from God; he stumbled into our lives in a time of war and fear. He gave us a strength we didn’t know we were lacking. He was the piece to a puzzle that was incomplete. John was a man who did not compromise when it came to keeping this place and his family safe. He was a good man and a strong fighter. John gave his life to protect this prison; to protect his sons and ensure we could continue to live in peace. Now that the threat of the Governor is gone, we can look to the future, to rebuilding and surviving.” Rick’s voice echoed across the yard as he spoke. Even the Walkers that always gathered at the fence seemed to fall silent.

Dean stepped forward, squeezing Sam’s shoulder as he passed. “I’d like to thank all of you for doing this. It means so much to me and Sam to see that our dad was loved by so many people. John wasn’t always the best dad in the past, but he made sure we were safe. Even when we got separated, I knew that he was out there looking for us and keeping someone else safe. It was in his nature to help people. I just wish we had gotten more time together here.” Dean turned to face the pyre. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m gonna miss you dad. I can only hope that Sam and I grow up into men like you; men you would be proud of.” Dean closed his eyes, reaching out to touch the sheet wrapped body. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he was greeted with nothing but coldness, but Dean felt his heart breaking and the tears tracing down his cheeks.

Dean stepped back and put an arm around Sam’s shoulders, holding his brother tight to his side. “We’re going to be okay Sammy. I promise.”

Maggie moved to a flaming barrel beside the pyre, pulling the lit torch from it. “Go in peace, John Winchester,” She said aloud as she tossed the torch onto the wood. Flames licked up the sides of the pyre, slowing consuming it until it was too bright to stare into any longer. The only sound to be heard was the crackling of the fire and the quiet sobs of two orphan boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to give a huge thank you to everyone who read this. It means so much to me that you all thought it was good enough to want to keep reading. I never thought it would get the reception it has gotten since its beginning, and every comment fueled me and put a smile on my face. Thank you to all of the kudos, and to everyone who commented. Thank you to the comments that helped make this story better.
> 
> Thank you once again to everyone. This story wouldn't have happened without you.
> 
> Much Love,
> 
> S


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